


Sleeping in the Sunshine

by Katzedecimal



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley can always find Aziraphale, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Canon, stretching the canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 13:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: “You’re over the limit on miracles  again.”“What?  I thought I was within the limit!”“Nope,” Gabriel said smugly, popping the P.Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, “You’ve changed them again, haven’t you.”Gabriel spread his hands, “Orders are orders.  And you, my dear Aziraphale, are well past.”Aziraphale huffed.   “What’s it to be this time?  Another  note?”Gabriel smiled.





	Sleeping in the Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tweet from Michael Sheen, responding to a question about whether Aziraphale's eyes shift from green to blue.

“Aziraphale!”

 _That_ voice always made Aziraphale’s heart thump and not in the good way. He swallowed tightly, then snapped his book shut and got up, tugged down his waistcoat, and strode out of the back room of the book store. “Ah, Gabriel! The Lord be with you. And what brings you here today?” - _As if I don’t already know._

“You, Aziraphale,” and it always seemed to Aziraphale that Gabriel relished these visits just a shade too much, to judge by the tone of his plummy voice, “You’re over the limit on miracles again.”

“What? I thought I was within the limit!”

“Nope,” Gabriel said smugly, popping the P.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, “You’ve changed them again, haven’t you.”

Gabriel spread his hands, “Orders are orders.” Definitely enjoying this too much. “And you, my dear Aziraphale, are well past.”

Aziraphale huffed. _Oh, Crowley’s going to hear about this tonight, that’s for certain._ “What’s it to be this time? Another note?”

Gabriel smiled.

* * * *

“Aziraphale!”

Ah! _That_ was the voice that made Aziraphale’s heart thump in the _good_ way. He opened his eyes and looked up from where he lay on the sofa. “Hmm?” He hopped off the sofa and walked out of the back room. 

“Aziraphale!” Crowley called again. He set a bag down on the register counter, “You here?” He looked around, then down.

_”I’m right in front of you, Crowley. Why are you so tall?”_

Crowley’s face split into a big grin, “Well, hello there! How did you get in here?”

_”IIII live here?”_

Crowley crouched down and held out his hand, still smiling, “Or did he finally cave? Eh? Did he cave?” his voice rising about two octives, “Finally figured out what his bookstore was missing?”

_”Why are you talking to me like that?”_

Crowley stretched out his arm and stroked his hand down the length of Aziraphale’s spine. “Ooooh look at you,” the demon cooed. He slid his hands underneath Aziraphale and gathered him close “You’re gonna get all over my clothes, aren’t you. Yes you are.” He scooped Aziraphale up and held him to his chest, then looked around the bookstore and called again, “Aziraphale?” Then looked back.

 _”You don’t have to shout, I’m right here. Really, Crowley, why are you treating me like this, it’s most undignif—*”_ He caught their reflection in a glass. _”Oh… **bugger!** ”_

“Oooo yessss, you’re a little grumpy, aren’t you? Because you’re nature’s perfect killer but you weigh eight pounds and people keep picking you up and kissing you,” Crowley said, suiting action to word, “Really, what’s a used bookstore without a cat?”

* * * *

 _I’m going to do something nasty to Gabriel. I will hack up a hairball on his shoes. I will sic Crowley on him. I will get him for this._

“I brought sushi. It’s yours now,” Crowley was saying. He reached into the bag and brought out a tray of assorted nigiri from Aziraphale’s favourite sushi restaurant.

 _Oh. Well. As long as I still get sushi._ Aziraphale sidled up to the tray and sniffed it, then began to eat. _Would really prefer some chopsticks. And some soy sauce._ But he ate, and kept glancing up at Crowley.

Who had taken his dark glasses off and was watching him with undisguised delight. Aziraphale took in the expression of amused affection thoughtfully as he chewed a piece of salmon. _Huh. You think you know someone… Six thousand years and I never knew Crowley liked cats!_

It was rare for Crowley to smile like that and Aziraphale had treasured it every time it happened. Crowley was always guarded, always keeping up appearances. It was rare the demon would ever admit to having a soft side, himself. It was rare that he would ever let his guard down, even with Aziraphale. 

Not like this. 

Crowley sat down and patted his lap. “I’m going to be covered in white fur,” he lamented, but patted anyway. Aziraphale hopped up and gazed at him, not sure what to expect. Crowley started stroking his fur. “You have a little pink nose,” Crowley informed him, “And little pink ears. And little pink toe beans!” His voice rose at least three octaves on the last one, so the toe beans must be particularly endearing. Aziraphale flexed his hands - paws - and Crowley winced, “Ow! Ow! Swordy feet! Swordy feet!” He grinned at Aziraphale, “We might have to trim your claws.”

 _Claws? I have claws? Can I use them on Gabriel? I can shred his suits!_ Aziraphale chuckled and was startled when it came out as a rumble.

Crowley’s face lit up with delight. “Awwww, are we getting purrsies?”

Aziraphale leaned up to bite his nose, gently. _Alright, Crowley, the voice is becoming annoying._

“Eeeeek! Love bite!”

 _Oh that’s much worse._ Aziraphale succumbed to the urge to lick Crowley’s nose, _Sorry, my dear, didn’t intend to hurt you. I suppose I don’t know my own sharpness yet._

Crowley was **giggling,** still smiling, wrinkling up his face, and **giggling**. “You’ve got fish breath,” he gasped between giggles. But he stroked Aziraphale’s back, subtly indicating that he should lie down. So he did, curling up into a small white doughnut against the black of Crowley’s trousers. 

Crowley’s fingers started scritching around Aziraphale’s face and under his whiskers. He lifted his face to look up at the demon, who took it as an invitation to scritch under his chin. _You so seldom look like that. Usually you only look at me like that when you’ve had a lot to drink. You look so tender. I love that look on you._

Aziraphale loved good food and good wine. He loved books. He loved dancing the gavotte. He loved plaid. But there was one thing he loved that he could never have, could never even let on about, and that was Crowley. He knew the legends - he would be utterly condemned if Upstairs knew that he had fallen in love with the demon, and when his kind condemned, they didn’t just kick you out and shun you. No. Crowley had dropped little hints here and there about his own experience of condemnation and well, they just confirmed the legends. It **hurt** to have to keep resisting Crowley but it was for both their sakes. For both their sakes, he couldn’t show Crowley nearly as much affection as he felt for him.

But… surely he couldn’t be blamed for acting on an _animal’s_ instincts, could he? Surely not? Not when they’d turned him into a cat for punishment? It was their own fault, really. And Crowley loved cats…

Aziraphale stretched up a small white paw to touch Crowley’s cheek and blinked slowly at him. _For as long as I’m like this, I will put that beautiful smile on you as often as I can, because you deserve it, Crowley._

* * * *

Unfortunately, that meant sacrificing his dignity. A lot. Because when Crowley came back to the shop with sushi, he also came back with cat toys. He brought back wand toys, feather toys, buzz-buzz balls, and chase toys. 

Aziraphale hadn’t _played_ in… well, ever? Games, yes, but nothing as physical or free-form as chasing after cat toys waved about by a demon. But Crowley was _enjoying_ it just so much! So Aziraphale swallowed his pride and his dignity and he played with Crowley with the toys.

“I brought you another present!” Crowley cooed. 

Aziraphale blinked at him from where he sat primly on top of a bookshelf. The best part of being a cat, he’d decided, was being able to scale the bookshelves with ease. The worst part was the boredom. Playing with Crowley alleviated that, at least. He yawned and stretched and hopped down to the floor, his tail rising to a forward curl of greeting as he walked.

Crowley set the bag down and withdrew a small object. “I got this. Are you ready for this?” he said in what Aziraphale had come to think of as his ‘gumdrop’ voice. His voice dropped and thickened and sweetened, into a tone that would sound probably like a gumdrop, if gumdrops talked. He drew out his prize and presented it to Aziraphale, “A catnip mouse!”

 _You’re joking._ Aziraphale looked at the mouse. It was plaid. He looked at Crowley, who was beaming with anticipation. He looked at the mouse, lifted a paw and gave it a half-hearted dab. Then… _Oh my!_

In his usual form, catnip had a nice minty smell and made a pleasant tea, good for settling the tummy after a nice meal. It had never smelled like **this!**

Crowley started laughing. “Your eyes just went _voop!_ ” he giggled, making his own slit pupils dilate to big round holes.

Aziraphale’s head was going _voop_. This was hitting him faster than wine, faster than the tincture of cannabis he’d taken that time when Gabriel had blessed him with a migraine in the 1800s! He pawed at the mouse and jabbed it with his claws, releasing more of the amazing smell. Pretty soon he wasn’t just playing with the mouse, he’d given over to his cat instincts entirely - kicking at it, rolling on it, throwing it up in the air and snatching it back, and Crowley laughed and laughed.

Crowley was crying with laughter. His beautiful golden eyes, unadorned, crinkled at the corners with mirth and were wet with tears that ran down his grinning cheeks. It was his full, unfiltered laughter that Aziraphale loved the most, the laughter that had no taint of Hell. The laughter only Aziraphale ever heard. 

A while later, he woke up to find that Crowley had moved him to a wide patch of sunshine by the windows, turned into a red-bellied black snake, and coiled up around him like a noodle basket. His head lay across Aziraphale’s shoulders, tucked under his ear. Mortal snakes have no eyelids; Crowley only did if he was waking up and started to shift into his human form and made it as far as eyelids before deciding that was enough effort for now. Aziraphale studied his wide golden eyes for a moment and decided he was asleep. 

Aziraphale paused — They were sleeping snuggled up together in the sunshine. Right here, right now, in this moment… there was no demon, no angel, no tension, no fear of their respective HQs. Just a cat and a snake, snuggling together, sleeping in the sunshine. Aziraphale wanted to freeze this moment and hold it for all of eternity. He wanted to thank the Almighty for the blessing of this moment and he knew he didn’t dare. 

Instead, he turned and licked Crowley’s unresponsive head twice. Then he wrapped a paw around Crowley’s body, drew a thick muscular coil closer to use as a pillow, lay his own white head against the shiny black scales, and went back to sleep.

* * * *  
_This is getting to be a habit,_ Aziraphale thought lazily. He was stretched from Crowley’s lap to his chest, one paw stretched around Crowley’s torso, while Crowley stroked one hand down Aziraphale’s fur. The other hand held the book the demon was reading aloud. Which was odd because Crowley didn’t like to read, although he enjoyed it when Aziraphale read aloud to him. Aziraphale cracked one eye open to gaze suspiciously up at the demon. Maybe Crowley just missed that and decided to fill the void himself?

Whatever. The worst part about being a cat was being unable to read any of his books, and Crowley had fixed that. He even read in his plummy gumdrop voice that Aziraphale loved to listen to. He closed his eyes again and started to purr.

* * * *  
_Aziraphale was screaming. It took a third of the entire host of Heaven to hold him back but they couldn’t stop him screaming. Crowley was screaming. It took another third of the host of Heaven and the whole of the host of Hell to drag him down and screaming was part of the point._

_It was his fault, it was all his fault. He shouldn’t have encouraged Crowley’s gentle attentions. He should have hidden himself away or scratched Crowley or something, **anything** that would discourage the demon from betraying himself. He should never have encouraged the demon to show his tender side. He should never have let him be… soft. If he had been stronger, if he hadn’t been soft himself, they wouldn’t be torturing Crowley so, but they were and it was his fault, it was all his own fault for being so soft… _

Aziraphale snapped awake. He was on the sofa. Crowley lay on his side, spooned behind him, one arm wrapped around Aziraphale and pressing him to his chest. He had been asleep but was now awake. “Hey there,” Crowley whispered, rubbing his thumb through Aziraphale’s fur, “You alright?”

Aziraphale looked up at him. Even with his dark glasses on, Crowley looked so concerned and kind. _I don’t know what to do. I love you like this but I know what they’ll do to you if they find out what you’re capable of._

As a cat, he couldn’t weep. All he could do was to turn and press his head into Crowley’s chest and make a sad little mew. _Oh, Crowley…_

* * * *

The shop was open. A shipment of _nth_ printings had arrived and Crowley had known Aziraphale long enough to know that these would be sellable copies, but mostly he was bored and just wanted some customers to scare. Aziraphale sat primly on top of a book shelf, his feet tucked in and his tail curled neatly around his toes, gazing down at the humans who wandered around his books. 

Everyone adored him, commenting on his cherubic round face, his little pink nose, and his mesmerizing eyes that seemed to shift from green to blue and back again. It was embarrassing! He turned to groom his shoulder, to give himself a break from all the fussing. The door chime made him look up, then he heard a camera shutter click and looked over to see that Crowley had caught him in a blep!

The door chimed again and Aziraphale looked around to see _Oh **bugger!**_ He shot down off the bookshelf and hid under the register counter. Crowley arched an eyebrow and then he smelled it - _Angel_ and _not_ Aziraphale. Crowley turned his head very slowly to where Gabriel stood at the door, wearing his posh suit and smoothing down his hair. Sandalphon stood behind him, looking… Sandalphoney as usual. The archangels looked slowly around the shop, clearly looking for something. Gabriel frowned, the presence of human customers making him unable to just call out. His eyes fell on Crowley sitting at the register counter, nearly trembling with the effort of battening down every single trace of his demonic nature, right down to his scent. “Where is your master?” Gabriel asked archly.

“My what,” Crowley’s voice was chilly.

Gabriel sneered, “The proprietor of this shop, of course.”

“Oh, Mister Fell? Nope, sorry, haven’t seen him all week!” Crowley said briskly. From near the floor, he could hear a distinctive _huuk-k, huuk-k, huuk-k, huuk-k_ and bit down **hard** on a grin. “I expect he’s off chasing a lead on a book somewhere.”

“I expect so,” Gabriel echoed, “By chance would you have seen-” _**HKK-SPLAK**_

“Hairball,” Crowley said brightly, over the sound of paws racing away up the stairs.

Gabriel stared down at his shoes in disgust. Customers were giggling behind their hands. Behind him, Sandalphon bit his lip. “Maybe try again later in the week,” Crowley continued, “I’m sure Mister Fell will turn up again soon.”

Gabriel drew a deep breath and instantly regretted it. “Indeed,” he gagged. He turned to glare at Sandalphon and stormed out. Sandalphon, teeth clamped firmly on his lips, followed. 

As a reward for having witnessed that perfect moment, Crowley let all the customers buy whatever they wanted (of the Aziraphale-approved sellable stock, of course - nothing rare or first edition), before closing the shop and sinking to the floor, where he laughed until he was silent and the floor was wet with tears. 

Aziraphale peeped around the staircase bannister. _Gabriel’ll probably find a way to punish me for that but it was so very worth it._

* * * *  
When he thought about being changed back, Aziraphale expected he would have some warning. He expected Gabriel would be present, if only to lecture him in that smug voice of his, first. He’d expected Crowley would be absent somehow. 

He was dozing stretched out on Crowley’s legs while the demon stroked and scritched his head. And he felt bad for the demon because one moment he was scritching a lapful of boneless kitty, and the next he was scritching a lapful of very surprised angel.

Aziraphale’s eyes slammed open, realizing what had just happened, then slid to Crowley. _Oh… blast it! What do I say?? He thinks I’ve been an ordinary kitty cat!* I did not think this through very well._ “Um…”

“…I can explain,” Crowley squeaked.

“…They changed the limits on miracles again on me.”

“Oh those bastards,” Crowley rolled his head in agreement, “You know they’re doing that deliberately, right?”

“The thought has occurred to me,” Aziraphale admitted. He looked down. He was still on Crowley’s lap. 

“Do you…” Crowley’s voice was hesitant, “Remember… anything… over the past week?”

Aziraphale looked away. Crowley clearly hoped he wouldn’t remember the things he’d done and said and behaved with the cat. He’d brought this on himself, no, he’d brought this on both of them. He’d allowed himself to indulge in his desires to be affectionate with Crowley, something decidedly frowned upon by his people Upstairs. But worse, he had encouraged Crowley’s displays of affection, relished in them, and thereby placed Crowley in a position of being discovered by his people Downstairs, and that… that was not Right. If Crowley’s people discovered that he had indulged in affection, Crowley would be taken, just as in his nightmare. He could not endanger Crowley. He could take his own risks but he had placed risks upon Crowley that were not his to place.

Aziraphale remembered. He remembered gifts of toys and plates of sushi, bought purely to watch a small white kitty cat enjoy them. He remembered lounging on a black-suited lap while gentle fingers scritched under his ear. He remembered a gumdrop voice reading his books to him. He remembered golden eyes laughing. He remembered golden eyes filled with fond affection. He remembered a red-bellied black noodle nest. He remembered when they were only a cat and a snake, snuggled up together, sleeping in the sunshine. 

So he summoned his best oblivious expression, because he couldn’t place Crowley at risk, and he spoke the words that would tear his own heart out and hurt Crowley but it would keep Crowley safe. “Remember what?”

**Author's Note:**

> *Crowley can always find Aziraphale and thus was thinking no such thing!


End file.
